Scotch
by artsygeek9796
Summary: Bard, Finny, Mey-rin, and Snake are left to watch over the manor while their master is away. Only this time, they're left alone. Unsupervised. With a bottle of scotch. Oh boy...


Mey-rin, Finny, Bard, and Snake were all gathered at the grand staircase one late afternoon. For what purpose? They didn't know. Ciel stood before them, Sebastian and Tanaka on either side of the young master.

"Tanaka and I shall be visiting an old friend of my predecessor for a few days, while Sebastian will be going into town to buy some supplies for the manor." He paused, their eyes staring blankly at him, and sighed. "Meaning you will all be on your own for a couple of hours."

Wide-eyed, they looked among each other. The young master had never left them alone before. If he had to leave, Tanaka would usually be here to make should the manor was still standing…..and even then, there were times when part of the manor was in shambles when the young master returned.

"Yes, so if you could all try not to destroy the place, that would be most appreciated," Sebastian told them.

"Bard, I'm leaving you in charge until Sebastian returns," Ciel instructed before leaving with Tanaka to the awaiting carriage

"Don't worry young master, I'll make sure everything is in tip-top shape!"

"Good," the butler said smirking, "because if it isn't, I will be holding you responsible to fix it."

"H-hey!" the chef cried, but Sebastian had already walked out the door.

"So what do we do now?" Finny asked.

"Let's go into the kitchen, I'm starving."

They made their way to the kitchen. Once there, Bard sent Finny search for something to eat while Mey-rin put away the last of the drying dishes (breaking two of the plates in the process), when Snake spotted a yellow slip of paper on the counter.

"It looks like Mr. Sebastian forgot the list again, says Oscar."

"Funny he always seems to remember to get everything," he said, looking at the list, "two dozen eggs, a stick of butter, salt, vanilla extract, cabbage, apples, carrots, lamb chops, a bottle of scotch…."

"You mean this one?" Finny asked, pulling one out of the cabinet.

"That's the one that we lost for the young master's dinner with his guest," Mey-rin said before Bard popped open the bottle. "Baldroy!"

"What? Ain't like the young master's gonna miss it. Besides, Sebastian's getting another so it's fine," he reassured her, "Finny, grab us a couple glasses."

"Aye, aye, captain!"

"B-but, Bard-"

"Oy, Mey-rin. It's like you've never had alcohol before." She stood silently, as did Snake and Finny, awkwardly glancing around the kitchen. "Wait, none of you have ever drank before?" Slowly, they nodded. "Shit, well then. Guess I'm gonna have to show you what you've been missing." He got up and went to the cupboard and pulled out four petite teacups and placed them on the counter.

"Why are we using teacups? says Emily."

"Back in the war when I used to go to the pub with my men, we used to play this drinking game. We would each get a round of shots, and one by one, we admit to something we've never done. If someone has done it, they would drink the shot," he explained as he poured the scotch into the cups, "ready?"

They nodded, Mey-rin a bit hesitantly.

"I'll start, I never wore a skirt."

"Hey! You're just targeting me, yes you are," Mey-rin whined.

"The point is to get you to drink. Now, now, rules are rules. Drink your shot." She glared at him, but took the shot anyway. She grimaced, the bitter taste sliding down her throat.

"That looks refreshing, says Webster." Although everyone could tell he was being sarcastic.

"Trust me, you get used to the taste," he chuckled, filling her cup, "Finny, your turn."

"Okay," he said cheerfully, "um, I've never used a gun before."

Bard looked Mey-rin as he lifted his cup. "Cheers." She does the same, and both knocking their drinks back.

"Woo, that's some good scotch!" he exclaimed.

"You've used guns before?, says Wilde."

Bard looked to the footman. _Oh, that's right. He doesn't know about us._ "Uh, yeah. Still do too. I was a soldier in America," he said before motioning to the maid, "Mey-rin here used to be a professional sniper." He then reached over and ruffled the gardener's blonde locks. "And Finny is our super strong gardener if you hadn't noticed."

"Why do you still use guns?, says Emily."

"We protect this manor with our lives. This is our home." Snake nodded understandingly.

"Let's see….I've never traveled with a circus before."

They all looked at Snake, who nervously looked down at his scotch. Finally, he picked up the teacup and drank it in one swift motion. He coughed, nearly choking from the alcohol.

"Too strong for you?" Bard asked, pounding his hand on the footman's back to help him breathe.

"I-I'm sorry! I was just wanted to hear what it was like working there."

He thought back on the memories of the Noah's Ark circus and how the gang that welcomed him. In a quiet voice and a distant gaze, he spoke. "It was my home, and they were my friends, says Dan."

"I see," she said sadly. Bard and Finny were silent. Unlike Snake, they didn't leave their home behind when they were founded by the young master.

"I've never regretted working here, says Dan."

They all smiled, for no one had taken their shot for that one.

•••

"Let's see….I've never sang Yankee Doodle while I showered."

"Mey-rin!" Bard cried. Snake and Finny broke into a fit of laughter.

"It's not my fault the clothesline's just above the bathroom window," she giggled. She had gotten a little drunk, her face blushing from intoxication. Her glasses were crooked, revealing her hazel eyes crinkling from laughter.

Bard grumbled, intaking his tenth shot. He was on the verge of becoming wasted.

Even Snake was a bit tipsy, the blush somewhat there. But what gave it away were the occasional hiccups that escaped his throat and his swaying.

Bard was about to retort when he noticed tears leaking out of Finny's eyes.

"Finny?" Bard asked, "What's wrong?"

"I-I've never rode a horse, or flooded the laundry room, or been outside of Europe, or joined a circus, or sang Yankee Dandy in the shower," Bard was about to correct him when he bawled, "I've n-never done anything in my life…."

Bard then realized Finny hadn't had a shot the entire night.

"Finny, you've done so many things in your life."

"Like what?"

"Well, I never knocked a tree down with my bare hands." He pushed Finny's cup closer to him, watching him drink it in one gulp.

"I've never watched every episode of the Rowdy Cowboy with the young master," Mey-rin mentioned, and Bard refilled the cup.

One by one, they listed his accomplishments.

"I've never tried to trim the bushes so they looked like elephants, says Oscar."

"I never climbed every tree in the garden."

"I've never made a birthday card for the young master."

"I've never helped Snake with shoveling the snow, says Wilde."

Finny smiled, his face starting to turn red. "Thanks, you guys," he said, sniffling as he wiped his eyes, "my turn. I've never had a first kiss."

All three of them drank, each surprised that the other two had.

"Y-you did?" Mey-rin stammered at the chef.

"Oy, why is that so hard to believe?"

"Your lips are always occupied with a cigarette, says Emily."

"I've done a lot of things with these lips."

"Bard!"

"Marla Silverman. Gorgeous southern belle with long blonde curls, soft blue eyes, and the sweetest laugh you've ever heard from a girl. Just before I got sent off to the battlefield, we kissed on the roof of her family's barn."

"Aw…"

"As well as some other things on that roof…." He said as elbowed Snake.

"Bard!"

"Alright, geez then! I won't tell them. How about you then?"

Mey-rin took off her glasses, a nostalgic look in her eyes as she told her story.

"François Bellerose. A gentleman, yes he was. We met in front of the Chevalier hotel, where he greeted me by taking my hand and kissed it. Took me dancing on the balcony, sang to me love songs. When we kissed, it was like the world around us had melted away and it was just the two of us."

"Wow," Finny and Snake gaped in awe.

"Wow, whatever happened to the fancy bloke?" Bard asked, puffing his cigarette.

"I shot him."

Bard coughed, the smoke caught in his lungs. "What?!"

"He was a criminal. I had a job to do. Such a shame, really. He was kind of cute."

"What about you, Snake?" Finny asked.

"Yeah, who was the lucky lady?" Bard grinned.

"Me, says Emily."

"What?!"

•••

Bard sat up, his hand holding up his pounding head. What happened? Fragments of last few moments came to him.

" _I've never smoked a cigarette."_

" _Want to try one, Finny?"_

" _Bard, don't you dare!"_

" _I never kissed a man before."_

" _That's what you think, says Oscar."_

" _What did that snake do to me?!"_

 _"You were the one who cuddled me, says Oscar."_

"Should I even ask?" Sebastian said when he entered the kitchen. He glared at Bard sitting dazed on the floor, then to Mey-rin giggling like an idiot on one of the barrels, and finally to Snake huddled up in a corner.

"Sebastian, I can explain," he started, until he heard Snake puke on the floor.

Sighing, Sebastian went over and picked up the sick footman, setting him on the counter next to the culprit of their strange behavior.

"Bard, you mean to tell me you got these servants intoxicated?" he asked sternly.

"A little…" he mumbled, staggering to his feet.

"This is not a pub. I cannot have you all act like drunkards when working for the young master."

"He ain't here, so it's fine," he said, "where'd Finny go anyway?"

"Bard, the young master is resting in his room right now."

"What? Why?!" he cried, earning a shush from the butler.

"The carriage broke down," he explained as he handed a cup of water to Snake, "I had to go find them and fix it. That's why I arrived so late. Had I known this is what you were up to, I certainly would not have left you guys alone for so long."

"Told you…" Mey-rin slurred.

Bard groaned. _The young master will kill us when he finds out what we did!_

"Bard! I foun-"

"Quiet Finny! You want to wake the young master?" he hissed.

"He's here? I better go welcome him back."

"You can do that in the morning. Right now, I need you to carry Snake to your rooms while I get Mey-rin to hers. Bard, clean up this mess. We'll have a talk about this tomorrow."

•••

"So you mean to tell me that while we were gone, you thought it would be okay for you to consume an entire bottle of alcohol without my permission?"

One thing Bard forgot to mention to them about alcohol was the hangover. Bard groaned, rubbing at his bloodshot eyes and straightening out his crumpled uniform. Mey-rin looked tired, her hair disheveled and shoulders slumped. Snake was weakened after getting sick, his dark-rimmed eyes shielded with his hand to block the sun and ease his headache. And Finny….looked like his usually self. Sparkling green eyes and bubbly smile plastered on his face.

"Bard said it would be okay."

"Alcohol is disgusting. I only have some stored in case guests arrive, not for my servants to drown themselves in it while I'm away!"

They flinched, mostly from the headache they were having.

"Sebastian, build me a wine cabinet. One with a lock," he said, glaring at his employees, "the rest of you, go on with your jobs. Perhaps working with a splitting headache will teach you a lesson."

They nodded, dragging their feet to their stations.

Around noon, the gang reunited in the kitchen to prepare the young master's supper.

"I've never felt this bad since that time I ate Bard's cooking, says Oscar."

"Oy, don't- no, too hungover to argue," the chef moaned, rubbing his forehead.

"Last night was a disaster, yes it was!"

"But wasn't it fun?"

They all turned to Finny, who was cracking open walnuts for a dish as he spoke.

"We never laughed as much as we did that day, and I got to learn more about you guys. Don't you feel the same?"

"Yeah, I guess it was nice," Mey-rin admitted.

"We enjoyed the game as well, says Wordsworth."

"Great! Because look what I found," Finny said, in his hands a bottle of rum, "Let's play the next time the young master goes on a trip."

The three of them groaned, but smirked a little. Maybe next time...if there ever will be.


End file.
